


Path

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 16:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10834605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elrond gets tired on a jog.





	Path

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Running” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/158937866370/fic-bingo).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He doesn’t particularly enjoy running, although he tries to practice a healthy lifestyle— _walking_ is simply more to his taste. He knows Lindir also prefers a slower pace, and they could’ve easily just enjoyed an ambling stroll through the wooded trail together.

But there are certain benefits to getting one’s heart rate up, and as Elrond slowly falls behind, he reaps them. Lindir keeps on ahead of him, long legs pale and exposed right to the thigh, his small shorts strained tight around his rear. Under normal circumstances, Elrond would never stare like this, but while they’re alone, out in the wilderness, with the sun streaming down through the lime green trees and highlighting the creamy expanse of skin just beneath his boyfriend’s bottom, Elrond finds he just can’t help himself. Lindir is, without a doubt, one of the best things to ever happen to him, and though he hardly means that for looks alone, moments like this certainly help.

Still, he’d speed up again if he could, keep pace with his exuberant partner and properly enjoy the exercise. But Elrond isn’t as young as he used to be, and his energy’s gone down for it. He was properly fit in his day, strong and swift in his prime. Now he feels long past that, while his boyfriend, a former assistant nearly half his age, has no trouble keeping pace. It gives Elrond a familiar stab of guilt, though there’s nothing to be done about it—another talk would only send Lindir into a tear-filled pit of worry, and he’d be reminded yet again that elves have no need to dwell on age.

Half-elves, on the other hand, apparently can’t run entire woodland trails without break, at least, not in their advancing years. Now stuck in a frown, Elrond tries to banish the thought, and instead hones in again on the stunning vision before him; the run is still entirely worth it for this view alone.

Just a minute or two after Elrond’s faltering, Lindir glances aside, then back over his shoulder, bright eyes catching on Elrond. Lindir’s brown hair is all pulled up in a messy bun, and only a few stray wisps mar his vision. He slows instantly, coming to match Elrond’s speed. With a light blush on his cheeks and a guilty look on his cute features, he chirps, “Sorry,” as though it’s his fault he’s still young and vibrant. He slows as Elrond does, until they’re only walking, then just standing there.

Breathing harder than he’d like, Elrond shakes his head and insists, “ _I’m_ sorry. I was... distracted.” Lindir tilts his head curiously, and Elrond makes a pointed glance towards Lindir’s hips. He wouldn’t normally be so forward, but it’s a good excuse to ignore his own problems, and it’s worth the thicker blush and embarrassed smile that pervades Lindir’s beautiful face. He always reacts to Elrond’s compliments as though they’re an undeserved surprise, and Elrond tries to give them often for it. Sparing a glance back the way they came to make certain no one’s coming, Elrond suggests, “But perhaps we could take a little break?” It isn’t so much that he _needs_ it anymore, but that he’s had enough of that activity, and now he craves another. 

Stepping right up towards him but sheepishly eyeing the ground, Lindir nods. He lifts both hands to press against Elrond’s chest, sliding up the grey sweater to his shoulders, and then Lindir’s eyes flicker up, and he quietly admits, “I do like you when you’re sweaty and panting.”

Elrond lifts an eyebrow. He didn’t think he was _that_ bad, but he’s hardly about to argue, given the look on Lindir’s face. He returns, “And I enjoy having a lovely young thing stop to bother with me.”

Lindir giggles, then tilts up and in to peck Elrond’s cheek. Elrond hooks a finger under his chin and turns him for a proper kiss, a warm, wondrous one that has Elrond’s arms wrapping swiftly around Lindir’s slender waist. 

As Elrond backs Lindir into the nearest tree, he decides a good run is something he should still try now and then. After all, he still has enough energy to enjoy the rewards.


End file.
